


Fantasy

by quiettoxic



Series: We [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: First Time, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, I did it again, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4234533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiettoxic/pseuds/quiettoxic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1995, and Denmark and Finland have a brilliant idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> It is very important that you imagine all of them with nineties hair and clothing styles in this. Very important. I imagine Denmark has frosted tips and Iceland has one of those god-awful chin-length middle-part haircuts. And Sweden has a mustache and his hair parted down the middle too. And really ugly glasses. Finland is so proud of his brand new Nokia phone. It has a retractable antenna, how fly. *sniff*
> 
> Anyway, this is a prequel, I guess, to We. The title is from another song in my Nordic 5 playlist, Fantasy by Stratovarius (a Finnish band). I will try to write three more stories in this 'verse, of sorts, obviously from the perspective of the three other Nordics. (And with titles from songs from those three countries!) Wish me luck.

The whole thing started with Denmark and Finland, in Helsinki, in February 1995.

Denmark had finally made time to come visit Finland and celebrate his joining of the European Union, at the beginning of the year, in True Nordic Fashion. Which meant that they were getting colossally drunk, obviously. But only after Denmark had complained, loudly, in horribly accented Swedish, about the freezing cold and Finland had had to shove a handful of snow down his shirt to shut him up. Always worked like a charm, that.

And before they were _really_ inebriated, they were tipsy. Both Denmark and Finland tended to get giggly and touchy-feely when they had had a few drinks, and then to get dead serious and brooding when they were completely sloshed, so this was the nice part of the evening. Granted, Finland tended to like the other part as well, if only because he could never remember the next day but his chest still felt lighter somehow.

Right now, they were maybe a little more than tipsy and leaning on each other in a booth at the back of a bar, where the music wasn’t quite so loud. The table in front of them was strewn with beer glasses – they would switch over to vodka later, despite its tendency to make Denmark puke. Denmark was reclining against Finland and gesticulating wildly with his hands as he talked about. Well, he was talking, anyway, that much Finland was certain of, and sniggering, his shoulder shaking against Finland’s. He was probably talking about one of the other Nordics’ antics, as he tended to do. Finland looked down at him fondly. Denmark was really a good guy, these days. He hadn’t always thought that way about him, and God knew he still annoyed the crap out of, well, everyone, oftentimes, but it wasn’t malignant. It was just who he was.

The bleached tips of his hair poked into Finland’s nose when he hoisted himself up a little so he could actually look at him. Finland spluttered, and Denmark giggled.

“Ya should do somethin’ else with your hair, too.” His words were either slurring or he was starting to speak Danish. But then what was the difference, Finland thought, quite amused with himself. Denmark pushed his hands into Finland’s hair, getting it out of his face, and looked appraising.

“What’s it?” the Finn asked, trying hard to keep his face serious.

Denmark giggled again, then let go of his hair. “Nothin’. I’m just gonna…” He tried to poke Finland’s cheek, but miscalculated, so his finger landed on the corner of his lips. He laughed and put his thumb on the other side so he could stretch Finland’s mouth into a grin. Finland made an unattractive snorting sound.

“You’re so pretty, Fin!” Denmark said in a high voice, which was absolutely fucking _hilarious_ to Finland’s woozy mind. He decided that Denmark should be pretty as well and promptly started pulling at his cheeks, but he was already grinning widely, so that was mostly useless, and Finland decided to squeeze the man’s lips together instead, which was hard but also looked stupid, and that was great. Denmark seemed to think it was amazing, smacking his lips at Finland.

“What are you doing?” Finland hiccupped.

“Kiss me, Finland!” Denmark singsonged in the falsetto. He fluttered his eyelids hysterically.

“What’s in it for me?” Finland asked. Denmark was still pushing the corners of his mouth apart. A new song started playing – from Sweden, Finland vaguely remembered. He loved how international the music scene had become over the last century, because he generally loved music.

“Well, you’d get to kiss me,” Denmark finally answered, as if that sold it. His fingers fell from Finland’s mouth.

They did kiss, sometimes. Well, make out, more like, and only when they were drunk together. It was enjoyable, so Finland saw no reason not to do it. He stopped pushing Denmark’s lips together and folded his hands around the man’s head instead, pulling him closer with a giggle, as if they were human teenagers sneakily stealing kisses when their parents weren’t looking.

Denmark curled his fingers into the front of Finland’s jacket when their lips met, and they were both having a hard time not laughing, which only served to make the whole thing awkward, until they managed to stop stretching their lips and Finland tilted his head into the kiss. Denmark tasted like beer, but he always did when they kissed, and Finland wasn’t much different. As usual, Denmark wasted no time; before Finland knew it, a tongue was sliding against his lips and _wait what the fuck_.

He pulled back to gaze at the other man blearily.

“What?” Denmark asked. “C’mon, I was havin’ a good time!” 

“Since when do you have a fucking tongue piercing?”

“Oh!” He stuck out his tongue, where, yes, a small silver stud could be seen. “Last year December, I think? Awesome, right?” He wiggled his tongue.

“Feels weird,” Finland said. He hiccupped.

Denmark grinned lewdly. “Oh, man, you don’t know half of it, Fin. You’re— Ya should feel it on your dick, that’s somethin’ else entirely.”

Finland giggled. He said _dick_. “How do you know? Did you suck your own—”

He laughed, too loud, and threw both of his arms around Finland’s neck to come closer and answer, “Iceland’s surprisingly vocal sometimes.” His alcohol breath was skating across Finland’s face. “I don’t know anyone who can suck their own dick, by the way.”

“Norway’s scary flexible. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Both of them were quiet for a few seconds, probably remembering their own experiences with Norway’s flexibility. Finland knew _he_ was, god damn.

“It is time,” Denmark then announced, sitting straighter up, “for more beer! What d’ya think, Fin?”

“Yeah!” Finland agreed enthusiastically, so Denmark went to get more beer from the bar. It had been a while since they had gotten well and truly sloshed together, Finland thought. Always so busy, both of them – all five of them. The last time they were all together must have been at least five months ago. He resolved to plan something with Denmark. And write it down so he wouldn’t forget it.

“Hey, Fin,” Denmark started when he returned, putting their new glasses of beer on the edge of the table cautiously, “stupid question, but have we ever had sex? Like, actual— Not that thing in the seventies where we were makin’ out and you came in your pants.”

“You came in your pants too!” Finland squawked indignantly. There had been a lot of sexual frustration in the seventies.

Denmark cocked his head. He always pretended not to remember, but Finland knew he hadn’t been _that_ drunk.

“Beside the point,” he said. He sat down. “For real, I can’t remember if I’ve ever had sex with ya, and I generally don’t forget that sorta thing, ya know?”

Finland took a gulp of his beer. Had he ever had sex with Denmark? Sweden; yes, definitely. Norway; yes, _holy shit_. Iceland; yes, a few times. Denmark…

“No,” he said, surprised. “We’ve never.”

“No way,” Denmark replied, also sounding very surprised. “We— We should! I could…” He wiggled his tongue out of mouth again, and Finland had to admit he was curious how the tongue piercing would feel.

“Yeah, you could!” Finland pressed himself alongside Denmark. “Not now, though.”

“No, ‘course not.” He tilted his head to the side, and his mouth was very close to Finland’s, so he pressed their lips together again, this time opening his mouth when Denmark slid his tongue over his lips. The piercing was strangely ticklish against his own tongue. Finland couldn’t resist poking at it, and Denmark grinned. They had both forgotten to close their eyes, and that would have been awkward if they hadn’t been drunk, but, as it were, it just made Finland giggle and pull away when Denmark winked at him.

“I was, I was,” he started to say, but Denmark bent his head and kissed him again and the rest of the sentence was muffled by lips and laughter.

“What were ya?” Denmark asked, but he didn’t give Finland any time to answer.

“Mhm, I— Stop for three seconds, Ta.” Finland watched him pick up his beer and drink about half of it in one go – his lips were slick and his Adam’s apple was bobbing, which was a little distracting – then continued, “I was thinking that we should get together sometime – the five of us. The Nordics, you know? It’s been a long time.”

Denmark wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “’S true, yeah.” He leaned on the table. “We can call ‘em tomorrow, see when they got time.”

That reminded Finland… “I finally got a new phone! It— Look!” He pulled his Nokia out of the pocket of his jacket proudly, almost poking Denmark in the eye with the antenna.

“Awesome,” Denmark said. He reached for the phone. “Can I look? Do ya have my number?”

“Yeah, sure,” Finland replied, then dug around in his pocket for a pen and a piece of paper to write down the things he shouldn’t forget.

“What’re ya doin’?”

“Writing down that we have never had sex and that we sh— The five of us should get together sometime soon, so we don’t forget tomorrow.” He had no idea in which language he was writing. Probably Finnish, if Denmark couldn’t read it. He registered the man’s hand slipping underneath his jacket and putting his phone back, then his chin resting on his shoulder.

“Smart.”

Finland chuckled, finished writing, and put the paper and pen back in his pocket with his phone. He drank more beer. They should switch soon.

“But, like, have ya had sex with the others? I have,” Denmark said, and Finland nodded. He grinned. “Norway’s impressive in bed, man.”

“Gun— Gunnar,” Finland corrected, belatedly remembering that they were in public and were supposed to use human names.

“There’s no one around! ‘Sides, who even speaks Swedish here?”

Lots of people spoke Swedish here, but Denmark was right on the other point. Not that they would understand _his_ Swedish, Finland thought, amused again.

“Ya know what I want?” Denmark asked, and he didn’t wait for Finland to reply before continuing, “I want more alcohol! Happy EU, Finland!”

“Yeah!”

“You’re payin’ for this round!”

“No!”

Later, after several rounds of vodka and pitiful reminiscing, they stumbled to Finland’s apartment in the city center and Denmark collapsed face-down on the couch. Finland, whose alcohol tolerance was significantly higher than Denmark’s, was feeling less drunk after the walk through the cold night, so he locked his door, shook Denmark’s shoulder and forced him to drink a glass of water, brush his teeth and take at least his coat off before falling asleep, _then_ collapsed into bed as well. He hoped Denmark wouldn’t have to puke in the morning. Celebrating in True Nordic Fashion had its downsides.

Hangovers were things that didn’t happen to Finland, so he felt fairly good when he woke up the next morning – and it _was_ still morning, quite miraculously, if barely. Of course, he couldn’t remember much from the previous evening, but he could hear Denmark snoring loudly from the living room, so at least they had gotten home in one piece.

He woke Denmark, who grumbled and complained about his head until Finland got sick of it and shoved him into the shower so he wouldn’t have to listen to him for a while. He already looked better when he returned, now grumbling about the state of his hair, which had been par of the course for as long as Finland had known him. They had lunch together, not speaking a lot.

“Hey,” Denmark said as they were putting their plates away in the kitchen, “what was that thing we had to remember again? Ya wrote somethin’ down, right?”

Finland remembered that, yeah. Something about sex? He went to look for his jacket from yesterday and dug a crumpled paper out of the pocket. He had to squint to read his own handwriting, and he sort of _knew_ what it was supposed to say, but all he could make of it was,

“We have never had sex with the Nordics?”

“ _What_?” Denmark said, trying to look over his shoulder. “No, it was somethin’ about how you and I have never had sex, and we were supposed to do somethin’ with the… Five of us…”

Finland looked up at him when the silence stretched on. “You’re imagining it, aren’t you? All the Nordics?” He knew he was, images coming unbidden to his mind that combined his experiences with the three other Nordics into one.

“ _Hell_ yes, I’m imaginin’ it. Aren’t you?”

“Fuck yes.” He pressed his back into Denmark’s chest, or maybe it was the other way around. Denmark breathed over his cheek hotly.

“It _is_ somethin’ to do, right? With the five of us?” He gripped Finland’s shoulders to turn him around, crowding him against the counter of the kitchen. “D’ya think they’d want to?” His eyes had a gleam in them that Finland had never seen before, not directed at him at least, but he decided he liked it.

“I don’t know.” Norway would probably be up for it, he thought. Sweden and Iceland… He wasn’t sure.

Denmark put his hands on the counter, effectively trapping Finland, then leaned his head down and mumbled, “We should ask ‘em, Fin.”

“We. Yeah.” He turned his face up and then they were kissing, for the first time without being drunk, and it was still _very_ enjoyable. Denmark pressed himself fully against Finland, sliding his hands around his jaw to hold him steady while he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Finland held on to his upper arms. The tiniest moan fell from his lips.

Denmark pulled away, but he stayed close, resting his forehead against Finland’s.

“D’ya reckon there’s other combinations among us that’ve never had sex?”

Finland kissed him again before he replied, “Sweden and Iceland, maybe? Norway and Iceland? All kinds of moresomes?”

“Hm, moresomes,” Denmark said, sounding dreamy, and Finland chuckled. “You ever had one?”

He grinned, tilting back to look at the Dane. “Are Nordics the only ones that count?”

Denmark tilted his head. “What if I say yes?”

“Well, that does rule out Estonia, unless we decided to change our mind while I wasn’t looking.”

“I sure didn’t,” Denmark said. He took a small step back, pressing his lips together in thought. “The five of us… It’s weird we never thought about it before, don’t ya think?”

“No, I don’t think that’s weird,” Finland replied. “We’re on good terms now, all of us, for the first time in… Maybe ever. It’s really the first opportunity.” He tugged at Denmark’s shirt, because now he didn’t want to stop kissing him, so they didn’t speak for a while and it was actually _more_ enjoyable without alcohol, Finland thought. His fingers were in the other man’s damp hair now, and Denmark’s hands were sliding his shirt up and running over bare skin slowly. They both tasted like coffee.

“Mh, okay,” Denmark mumbled, half against Finland’s lips. “Fin, we should, we should call the others, or. Just. Have ya always been this good at kissin’?”

“Practice makes perfect?” He chuckled. “I’d guess that I’m better at it while I’m not drunk, too.”

“Hm.” He started to lean toward Finland again, but then shook his head and took a step backwards. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Okay. No, for real, Fin, if we actually wanna do it, if we actually wanna have a _fivesome_ , then we should get to plannin’, ‘cause that’s gonna take time.”

“I want to.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Finland pushed his shirt down. “We should go and ask them in person instead of calling them.”

Denmark nodded. “Probably best. How fast can we get to Norway from here?”

So, because that was who they were and because they could, they took a plane to Oslo and then rented a car to drive to Norway’s house, without even knowing if anyone was home, because they had forgotten to call in their haste to leave. Luckily, when Denmark knocked on the door, it was opened cautiously.

“Den?”

“Heya!” Denmark said. “Can we come in? I am so hungry, you have no idea.”

Norway opened the door a little further. “Finland?” He looked between them. He was wearing the most gigantic sweater Finland had ever seen, with a bright pattern on it.

“I’m also really cold,” Denmark added. Finland didn’t mind the cold, but he _was_ really hungry as well.

“Well, come in then,” Norway said eventually, raising an eyebrow. “We were just goin’ to have dinner, so you can join.”

Norway had the habit of making far too much food, Finland knew, so – wait, “We?”

The door the living room opened just as the front door closed behind Finland, and Iceland poked his head out, starting to ask who was there, but when he saw the people in the hallway, he smiled in surprise.

“Ice!” Denmark said happily. He glanced at Finland, who shrugged. Convenient.

“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” Iceland asked, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“I am fuckin’ hungry,” Denmark said, and his stomach rumbled in agreement, “so can we eat first?”

Iceland looked at Finland instead.

“It’s not urgent. We should eat before it gets cold.”

Norway herded everyone to the dinner table, where they ate all of his stew, and then he forced Denmark to help wash the dishes, as he tended to do, while Finland and Iceland found some cards and played a game, but then they came back and all four of them were around the table once again. Finland and Denmark were on one side and Norway and Iceland on the other.

“So…” Iceland started.

“Yeah, we thought of somethin’,” Denmark said. “And we were just gonna ask Norway now, but you’re actually part of it, too, so it’s pretty convenient you’re here!”

Norway raised his eyebrows. “And that somethin’ is?”

Denmark looked at Finland, who sighed, licked his lips, and said, “We were out yesterday, and somehow the conversation came to how Denmark and I have never had sex, and also to how we thought the five of us should do something together, and, well.” He watched as understanding dawned on Norway’s face, but Iceland was still looking befuddled. “Well, today we thought we could… Combine those things?”

Iceland’s mouth fell open, his gaze flicking from Finland, to Denmark, to Norway, then back to Finland, who shrugged.

“You mean…” The island nation trailed off. His cheeks were coloring.

“Yeah, we mean that,” Denmark said. He put his hands on the table. “What do ya guys think? Would ya be interested in trying it out? Havin’ sex with the five of us?”

They looked at each other, and Norway made an aborted movement with his hand, as if he wanted to touch Iceland, but then he turned to Denmark and said,

“I know _I’m_ interested.”

Iceland inhaled sharply. Finland had never seen him so red.

“I, we’ve,” he stuttered, then took a very deep breath. “We’ve never – had sex. Norway and I, I mean. Not that I don’t want…”

Norway looked at him, dark eyes soft, and this time he did touch him, a hand on his shoulder.

“We,” Iceland said, and then he must have seen something in the man’s eyes, because suddenly they were kissing, and Finland heard Denmark gasp next to him. It wasn’t a long kiss, and Finland didn’t think there was any tongue involved, but Iceland was panting when they pulled apart, eyes fixed on Norway, who was brushing thin fingers through his hair.

Eventually, he turned to Finland and Denmark and nodded, still looking incredibly flushed, which Finland thought was quite adorable.

“I’m interested as well. Count me in.”

Denmark shoved at Finland’s shoulder, and he was grinning widely when the Finn looked at him, flashing a thumbs-up. Finland chuckled.

“So, wait,” Denmark said, “you’ve never had sex, the two of ya, but how ‘bout with Sweden? Pretty sure Nor has, but you, Ice?”

“I have, yes.”

“Oooh, Sweden, ya sly dog!”

All three of them raised their eyebrows at Denmark’s antics, but he was already reaching over the table to grab at Norway and Iceland’s hands, who let it happen in slight amusement.

“We’re gonna ask Sweden as soon as possible, guys. We’re gonna do this.”

Norway yanked at his left wrist, dragging him half over the table, and kissed him harshly on the lips. Denmark flailed his right arm, almost hitting Iceland in the face, but then settled it down. Iceland shook his head at Finland, who shrugged. What could you do?

When Norway eventually let go of Denmark, he looked at Finland and _fuck_ , that look was incredibly hot.

“We should— Sweden,” Finland stuttered, but he was standing up and leaning over the table as he said it, because Norway _knew_ what he was doing, god damn it, and Finland was never one to turn down a good kiss. He felt Denmark’s hand on his lower back as his lips met Norway’s, and he was honestly tempted to say _fuck Sweden_ , let’s do this here and now, but no. No, Sweden was very much an integral part of their little group, so Finland pulled away.

“Sweden,” Norway said.

“Sweden,” Finland repeated.

Iceland was breathing hard, and Finland looked down at him with a smile.

“Sweden,” he breathed.

“Yes, Sweden!” Denmark concluded.

Norway bit his lip, looking between Denmark and Finland. “If ya don’t have to go to work tomorrow, ya could stay here. There’s enough room.”

Finland had four days off work, two of which had passed already, so he supposed he could stay. Denmark sighed very loudly and said that he had a meeting with his boss in the afternoon.

“But I could stay, I guess, I’d just have to leave early.”

Denmark slept on the couch again.

When he was gone, Iceland, Norway and Finland decided they might as well go visit Sweden and propose the plan to him. It might actually help that Denmark would not be there, Iceland pointed out, and Finland agreed. They were friends, Sweden and Denmark, but they liked provoking each other.

Iceland had apparently been at Norway’s for a purely social call and had the week off, so the three of them piled into Norway’s car and drove to Sweden’s house – he lived quite close to the border with Norway at the moment, so they arrived by dinnertime and were invited in by a very confused Sweden. Finland groaned when he saw that Sweden still had that awful mustache he’d been swearing he’d shave off since mid-eighties.

After having dinner, they ended up in the same situation as the night before, except it was now Sweden instead of Denmark sitting next to Finland.

Norway and Finland explained the idea to him, and when they were done, it was quiet for a very long time, even by Finland’s standards.

“Have to think about this,” Sweden eventually said. He was blushing.

“Of course!” Finland replied. His hand was resting on the man’s forearm. “You don’t have to decide right now!”

Sweden pushed his glasses up. “Hm.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and the other three waited patiently until he found his words. “I like the idea ’f it, but I’m not sure if it’ll work out f’real. Five people, takes a lot of coordinating.”

Norway tilted his head, and Iceland looked at his own lap, then up at Sweden, saying,

“I’ve got an idea. Stop me if I sound ridiculous, but maybe… If Svi’s apprehensive about joining in, he could be the one to coordinate? Like, to see how it goes? And, I mean, he could always…”

Norway looked at Iceland with a strange sort of pride in his eyes, and Finland had to admit that the idea had its appeal. It could be a try-out, for all of them, and maybe they could do it again sometime in the future if they liked it. Apart from that, there was a part of him that was definitely interested in being ‘coordinated’.

“’S not bad,” Sweden agreed, and Iceland ducked his head, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“But still, you don’t have to decide now!” Finland reminded him.

“Think I can.” He looked at Finland over the rim of his glasses, blue eyes piercing as ever, but Finland knew him by now, and there was nothing but trust in them. “I want in.”

The Finn smiled, reaching up to brush the back of his hand over Sweden’s cheek. “Great to hear.”

Sweden tilted his head into the touch slightly, so Finland turned his hand over and tugged a little so he could place a light kiss on the man’s lips, trying to ignore the mustache. He’d kissed Sweden while he had a full beard, it shouldn’t matter. The thing was just so _ugly_.

“Anyway,” Finland said when he pulled away, trying to ignore Norway’s amused, knowing look. “Now we just need a date that we can all come.” He was glad Denmark was not there to laugh at the innuendo in that sentence.

“I’ll call Denmark,” Sweden said.

It took a while, but they eventually settled for a day in late March, and then of course they had to figure out _where_ , but that was quickly settled when Sweden offered his house. Denmark complained about how cold it would be – more out of a desire to needle Sweden than actual annoyance, Finland got the impression – and Sweden hung up on him, grumbling about phone bills and claims to the government.

Late March. It was a long wait for Finland, even with all the work he had to do after joining the EU. He had a brief moment of doubt in April, because what if this ruined their friendship? They had just gotten to a good point. On the other hand – _god_ , he wanted to, and it wasn’t as if they wouldn’t be able to put it past them if they were somehow weirded out by the whole thing, right? He almost talked to Estonia about it, but decided that would just be weird and talked himself out of it instead. He was pretty good at that.

But, eventually, the Saturday in question came around. The weather was beautiful, though Finland couldn’t honestly say he cared beyond not having to listen to Denmark complaining for twenty minutes. When he arrived at Sweden’s, only Norway was there already, sitting seemingly completely relaxed on Sweden’s couch – and this was familiar, Finland thought, amused. There had been a threesome between them; him, Sweden and Norway, some centuries back. Finland vaguely remembered feeling as though he had committed a sin back then.

He definitely wouldn’t now. The twentieth century had been enlightening, to say the least.

Sweden had gotten rid of his mustache somewhere between the last time Finland had seen him and now, which the Finn was _very_ happy about, even if, judging by the nation’s passively amused look, Norway definitely had something to do with it.

Iceland was the last to arrive, and also the only one who Finland could _see_ his nervousness reflected in. Norway, Denmark and Sweden were all very adept at hiding their emotions, be it in different ways. It was reassuring to see Iceland worrying at his lower lip and plucking at the hem of his sweater, in a way. Sweden noticed too; he put a hand on Iceland’s shoulder and smiled a little when the nation glanced up at him.

“So!” Denmark said. “Sve, what’re we gonna do?”

“Gonna go upstairs,” Sweden said, and then he squeezed Iceland’s shoulder when he swallowed audibly. “If you don’t want to, we won’t do it, Ice.”

“No, I want to! I really do, I’m just a little nervous.”

Denmark bounced over to him and grabbed his face. “We’re gonna have fun, Ice. Here, c’mon.” He pressed a kiss to Iceland’s forehead, and Iceland smiled, then took hold of the Dane’s wrist and kissed the palm of his hand.

Sweden nodded at Denmark gratefully, then continued, “And if anyone wants t’stop, just say so.”

“Of course,” Norway said from next to Finland, and then his hand landed between the Finn’s shoulder blades. “We should go.”

Finland glanced at his friend, nodded, and began walking to the stairs. He heard the other four follow – Sweden’s heavy footfalls, Iceland’s shuffling steps, Denmark being whacked on the head by Norway – but he didn’t look back, resolutely marching to Sweden’s bedroom instead. It always had a touch of familiarity, no matter where Sweden lived, to enter a space that was so completely Sweden’s. Funny.

The door shut, and he turned around to look at his fellow Nordics. Denmark had an arm slung around Norway’s shoulders, and Sweden was still holding Iceland. No one was moving.

Okay, now this was awkward.

Finland licked his lips, then took a few steps forward, dragged Denmark down by the back of his neck and kissed him harshly. He felt Denmark drag Norway against his side so the three of them were squished together. Norway was breathing on Finland’s temple.

Sweden cleared his throat, and Denmark and Finland looked up at him. Iceland was flushed – _adorable_ , Finland caught himself thinking – and even Sweden looked slightly red. Denmark grinned at them, squeezing Norway and Finland even tighter together.

“What’s up, Sve?”

“’F I’m supposed t’coordinate, I propose we all follow Fin’s example. Start by kissing.”

Again, no one moved, and Finland resisted the urge to groan.

“Finland ‘n Norway,” Sweden said, in a rare bout of assertiveness. Finland thought it was very attractive, but he didn’t have long to dwell on it, because Norway was turning his head to press their mouths together, tongue coaxing Finland’s mouth open, and the Finn turned until he was sandwiched between Norway and Denmark, which definitely had its appeal. He put a hand on the back of Norway’s head, fingers weaving through soft hair, while Denmark’s fingers danced over his hips and Norway explored his mouth lazily. Shivers of excited arousal ran through his body, and he began to feel confident that it _would_ work out.

They had to break apart eventually – they were both breathing hard, but Norway pulled one corner of his mouth up, and Finland couldn’t help but grin.

“Hm,” said Sweden, “Denmark ‘n Norway.”

Finland tried to squeeze out from between them, but Denmark clenched his hips and Norway’s arm curled around his neck, so he stayed where he was as Norway tilted his face up. He wasn’t so tall that he could actually reach over Finland’s head, so they met somewhere at the height of his eyes. Finland rested his head back on Denmark’s shoulder and squeezed the man’s hip.

Iceland shuffled into view, and Finland smiled at him. Denmark and Norway were making very distracting sounds, almost directly into his ear, but they eventually stopped, and then there was just breathing, and heaving chests pressed against him on both sides.

Finland looked at Sweden, who was pushing his glasses up, probably trying to hide that he was blushing.

“Sve?” Denmark asked, and the man looked up at him, then took a large step, and kissed him. Denmark abruptly let go of Finland and Norway to pull at Sweden’s jaw and almost frantically run his hands through his hair, messing it up completely. Finland took a small step away from them and looked in awe. Iceland made a sound that sounded sort of like a whimper. Sweden gave as good as he got, large hands tugging at clothing, head tilting to deepen the kiss. Finland took another step back when they parted and Sweden looked down at him with a dark look in his eyes that was familiar, though faded in his memory.

He hadn’t taken this into account, Finland realized. History, what a strange thing.

Sweden shook his head, and the look cleared. Finland wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Denmark was cursing quietly.

“Iceland ‘n Finland,” Sweden said, sounding more than a little breathless.

So Finland turned around and grinned at Iceland again. Iceland pushed his hair out of his face and slowly pressed his soft lips together with Finland’s. Finland let him set the pace. He did run his hands up and down the man’s sides and tilted his head eagerly into the kiss when Iceland’s tongue probed at his lips. It was not at all strange to kiss in front of other people, somehow – Finland trusted them, through and through. He pulled away from Iceland, smiling at him again.

“Fin,” Sweden said, so he turned back and kissed him, Sweden’s hands flying to his hair immediately. It was a slick affair, and Sweden’s mouth was bruised red when they parted, his glasses askew. Finland licked his own lips, panting.

“Norway ‘n Iceland,” Sweden ordered, tearing his gaze from Finland.

They kissed agonizingly slowly. Norway was pressing a leg up between Iceland’s and Iceland was going even redder than before and he obviously had no idea where to put his hands until Denmark grabbed his wrists from behind Norway and put them on the man’s lower back. Iceland actually moaned softly, and the Dane chuckled.

Sweden waited until Norway pulled away to breathe, then immediately leaned over and kissed Iceland as well. The island nation moaned again, muffled against Sweden, and wound one arm around the man’s neck, other still holding on to Norway. Denmark pressed himself between Sweden and Norway to yank Iceland his way when Sweden was done, without prompting. Norway raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop pressing himself against Iceland, who was fairly hanging on to Sweden’s neck now, with Denmark’s hands cupped around his jaw.

Fuck, that was hot.

Norway glanced at him, and, wow, that was a ‘come-hither’ look if Finland had ever seen one, so he shuffled over to the jumble of Nordics and pressed himself alongside Sweden.

Iceland was panting heavily when he detached himself from Denmark, and he moaned through clenched teeth when Norway leaned up to kiss Sweden.

“Holy fuck,” Denmark breathed. Finland was inclined to agree.

Sweden took a very small step backwards, disentangling himself and gazing over the other four. Iceland started to hang on to Finland’s neck instead, positively grinding down on Norway’s thigh.

“Y’should undress,” Sweden told them, and Denmark was undoing the buttons on Norway’s shirt before he had even finished talking. Norway raised his eyebrows at Finland in mock surprise, and the Finn chuckled. Iceland collected himself enough to help Denmark, although his fingers were shaking. When Norway’s shirt was gone, Finland slid his hands underneath Iceland’s sweater, and the nation lifted his arms quickly to get it off, then got his hands on Norway’s chest. They stroked very lightly, barely touching Norway’s skin until he leaned over to kiss Iceland again.

Denmark grinned at Finland from over their heads; came over while shucking his shirt, and Finland quickly did the same. He glanced at Sweden, whose shirt was hanging loose on his shoulders, but was not off. Finland hoped he wasn’t planning on just leaving all his clothes on, even if he didn’t actively want to participate, because that would be awkward.

But then he was distracted by Denmark fumbling with the buttons on his jeans, and the man’s neck was _right there_ , so he sucked a kiss into the pulse point that had Denmark’s hand jerking against his groin.

“Wait,” Sweden said. They all looked up at him. “Switch. Finland ‘n Iceland, Denmark ‘n Norway.”

“But I was gonna…” Denmark stuck his tongue out at Sweden, who raised an eyebrow, looking utterly unimpressed.

“Y’can do that later, Den.”

“Promise?” His grin was lewd.

“Promise.”

“Can I do it to _you_?”

“We’ll see.”

Denmark popped the button on Finland’s jeans with one hand, then took a step back. “Good enough.”

Finland gasped.

“You’re gonna be the death of all of us one day, Den,” Norway said, quite plaintively, but his voice was deeper and breathier than normal, betraying the tone.

“Not my intention,” Denmark replied. “’S no fun, buncha dead guys.”

Norway rolled his eyes and dragged him down to kiss him.

Finland turned his attention to Iceland, pushing his own jeans down before sinking to his knees in front of the nation, putting his hands over his hips. He looked up at Iceland.

“This okay?”

Iceland nodded, looking down at Finland and biting his lip, so Finland slowly pried the fastenings of his pants open and eased them out of the way. Iceland stumbled a little when Norway backed into him, pressing their bare shoulders together as Denmark fumbled with his pants. Finland smiled when he saw their fingers tangle.

Sweden’s shirt whispered to the ground, and the smile grew into a grin.

Finland hooked his fingers into the elastic of Iceland’s boxers and looked up at him again.

“Yeah,” Iceland breathed, and then Finland turned to Sweden, whose eyes were dark on him again, but he nodded, so Finland slowly tugged the underwear down. Iceland leaned his head away, pressing it to Norway’s neck, so Finland focused on his crotch instead, figuring he’d say something if he wasn’t comfortable. Norway’s long fingers snaked around Iceland’s hip, curling around the jut of a sharp hipbone.

Finally, all of Iceland’s clothes were gone, and he kicked them away.

He was hard, and flushed from his forehead to his shoulders, pressing bare skin against Norway, whom Denmark had gotten naked as well. The Dane winked at Finland as he slid his own boxers off, and Finland followed his example hastily.

Sweden, still in his jeans but now shirtless, hummed in satisfaction.

“Everyone still okay?” he asked.

“I’m amazin’, Sve,” Denmark answered. “But that’s common knowledge.”

Norway nodded at Sweden, curling his hand tighter around Iceland’s hip.

Iceland breathed in sharply, then said, “Fine.”

“Yeah,” Finland mumbled.

The air was heavy with something between sexual tension and nervousness, quiet but for their breath. Finland longed to put some music on. He filed that thought away; if there ever was a next time, he’d make sure there was background noise. He licked his lips, looking up at Iceland. Slowly, he reached his right hand up to drag a finger over the man’s cock, drawing a muffled whimper from his throat.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes,” Iceland replied, voice remarkably unwavering, so Finland wrapped his fingers around him. When he glanced at Sweden, the dark look was back in his eyes as they darted from Denmark to Finland. It sent blood rushing to Finland’s cock in a way that it’d never done before, and he had to catch his breath for a few seconds before refocusing on Iceland. Fuck, it was really hot to do this when you knew someone was watching. Especially Sweden, with all that focused intensity.

Without giving much thought to it, Finland swiped his tongue over the head of Iceland’s cock. The nation let out a surprised moan, hips bucking forward. Finland looked up at him again, ready to apologize for being too forward.

“Fin—”

“Yeah?”

“Can you. Can you do that again?”

“Hm,” Finland hummed in reply, before glancing up at Sweden coyly. “Can I do that again, Swe?”

Iceland groaned, and Sweden looked supremely confused for a second, but then replied, “’Course.”

“Oh, nice _goin’_ , Fin,” Denmark said, poking his head around Norway and Iceland to raise an eyebrow in appreciation. Finland wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but that was often the case with Denmark, so he just grinned at him in response, then smirked when Norway yanked at his hair and he disappeared again.

Finland dragged his thumb over Iceland’s cock gently, listening to the sounds he made, then slid his lips over him. He rubbed his other hand over the man’s hip, up until he met Norway’s fingers and tangled with them. Iceland put a hand on his hair, seemingly unsure what else to do with it, but Finland didn’t mind at all.

A rustle next to him. He sensed someone at his side, and pulled off of Iceland to find Sweden there, kneeling down on one knee and resting his fingers lightly on Iceland’s thigh. He was still in his jeans. It had something sexy, strangely enough. Iceland moaned, his hips bucking a tiny bit under Finland and Norway’s combined grip. Sweden wasn’t doing anything else, so Finland put his mouth on Iceland again, starting to suck a little.

Someone moaned – Norway, Denmark, Iceland? Finland didn’t know, but it spurred his arousal on. Sweden breathed heavily in his ear, and Iceland was warm and tangy-salty on his tongue, and Norway was clenching his fingers rhythmically.

This was _definitely_ a good idea.

Norway cursed, and Iceland stumbled a little, pushing his cock further into Finland’s mouth. The Finn quickly pulled back. He looked up at Iceland.

“I’m sorry,” the island nation mumbled.

Sweden rose to his feet in a swift motion and kissed him, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I think,” he started when they pulled apart, “’s time to lie down, hm?”

Jerkily, Iceland nodded his assent. Norway breathed something that sounded half like _Denmark_ and half like _Iceland_ and then something that was definitely a confirmation. Denmark was already on his feet by the time Finland got around to mumbling a _yes_.

“C’mon then, c’mon,” he said, bouncing enthusiastically. “Sve, where do ya want me?”

Sweden looked contemplative for a moment while Finland rose to his feet, then licked his lips and nodded.

“You going to fuck Fin or ‘s he gonna fuck you?”

Fucking hell, Sweden talking straightforward was Finland’s weakness, had always been. He caught Denmark’s eye and shrugged, then rolled his eyes good-naturedly when the man pointed from himself to Finland and made an obscene gesture that Finland would forever deny made his cock throb urgently.

“Fine,” he said. And then, to Sweden, “Ta’s gonna fuck me.”

“Hm.” He pushed his glasses up. “’N Norway ‘n Iceland?”

“I will top,” Norway answered without missing a beat. Finland could only assume they had talked about this before.

Sweden instructed Norway and Denmark to prepare the other’s partner, and when Denmark started to complain again, Iceland shut him up very effectively by tackling him to Sweden’s bed and crushing their mouths together. Iceland, Finland remembered from the few times they had sex, needed a while to come loose. Same as Sweden, really. The two of them had more in common than one might think.

“Fin,” Norway said, a hand stroking gently over Finland’s lower back.

“Yeah,” Finland replied.

“There’s just one thing botherin’ me.”

He turned around and followed Norway’s gaze to Sweden’s jeans. Oh, but he _was_ hard – the outline of his erection visible even through the denim – and flushed all the way down his chest.

“Sve, at least take your jeans off.” Norway took a step closer to him, and Finland nearly laughed when Sweden swallowed visibly. “Can’t be comfortable.” His thin fingers dragged over the waist. Sweden looked down at them, then up at Norway, took a deep breath, and nodded. Norway smiled a small smile.

Finland helped with getting Sweden’s pants off gladly, and regretfully stepped back when they were done. But when Norway turned that smile on him, and Iceland moaned at his back, and Denmark murmured incomprehensible things – maybe just Danish things – , he didn’t mind so much anymore.

Pressing the full length of their bodies together, Norway kissed him briefly, maybe tasting Iceland on Finland’s lips, then pushed him back to Sweden’s bed to rest on his back next to Iceland, who was staring intently up at Denmark as he caressed his thighs. Norway hovered over Finland, running his fingertips over his hips. Finland spread his legs a little, and the man smirked, ran a hand down to his balls. Iceland gasped, Norway’s eyes flashed when he looked at Denmark, and Finland groaned.

“Den,” Norway said, “where the fuck did ya leave the lube?”

Denmark gestured vaguely, more concentrated on Iceland.

“Oh, _thanks_.” He held a hand out over Iceland’s body and a small bottle flew into it. Funny – Norway almost never used his magic for such mundane things, only for battles and such. Finland felt strangely honored.

A slick finger prodded at his ass, and he canted his hips up to indicate acceptance. Because he was _so_ fucking accepting right now, especially when Iceland clenched a hand down on his forearm and Denmark cursed silently.

The finger slid into him, thrusting gently, and once the weird intrusive feeling that always accompanied this faded, Finland grunted, and Norway added another one. He rotated them this way and that. Finland tried to move his hips into the touch, but Norway’s other hand held him back by his thigh, so he looked at Iceland instead. He was beautiful like this, he thought, still flushed, with his mouth slack and his eyelids fluttering. Denmark was between his legs, looking down intently, biting his lip. And Sweden – where was Sweden?

Sweden was still in the same spot, seemingly rooted in place in his underwear. Finland smiled, then threw his head back when Norway curled his fingers.

“Y’okay, Ice?” Denmark asked.

“Yes,” Iceland breathed in response, his fingers tightening around Finland’s arm.

Norway pulled his fingers out, and three returned, now slicker than before. Arousal rocketed through Finland’s body at the stretch, and he cursed under his breath.

“Good?” Norway asked.

“Hmh.”

“Good.” He pushed Finland’s leg more to the side, and then there was a larger hand on the Finn’s other knee, spreading his legs even more, until his left bumped together with Iceland’s.

“Hey, Nor,” Denmark said, leaning over to the man in question. “Can I look at your dick for a second?”

“ _What_?”

He chuckled. “That came out wrong. I mean, d’ya think Ice is stretched enough for ya?”

“Ask him, dumbass,” Norway answered. There was a hint of affection in his voice, though, and Finland smiled to himself. He doubted he’d ever fully understand the relationship Norway and Denmark had.

Iceland squirmed next to him.

“Sorry, ‘course,” Denmark said. He turned to Iceland. “Y’alright?”

He mumbled something that Denmark seemed to understand, because he nodded and concentrated on his hands again. Norway twisted his fingers inside Finland. His thumb pressed down on the sensitive skin of his perineum. Finland cursed.

Norway leaned over to Denmark, nudging at his jaw until the Dane turned his face to kiss him. Meanwhile, Sweden remembered how his feet worked and silently walked over to them, sitting on the edge of his bed next to Finland, eyes flicking over all of them behind his glasses. Finland reached up to him while he tried to rock himself on Norway’s fingers, and the nation looked down at him.

“Hm?”

Finland smiled, then gasped when Norway pulled his fingers out in a swift move.

“’S okay,” Sweden said, and before Finland could even look up, his cock was engulfed in wet heat, and he very nearly came on the spot. He cursed through clenched teeth, looking down his body.

Denmark.

“Oh my fucking god,” he groaned, throwing his head back again, because Denmark was right; the tongue piercing felt _amazing_ , much more noticeable than he had anticipated.

Iceland mumbled Norway’s name. Sweden reached over Finland’s head to brush some hair out of his face.

“Ta,” Finland grunted, trying to grab the man’s hair. “Ta— Denmark, fucking hell, I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

Denmark pulled off of him with a wet sound. “Oh, dirty mouth, Fin.” He cocked his head. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“I know I was surprised,” Iceland mumbled. Finland grinned at him, but he didn’t notice, because he was looking down at where Norway was kissing up and down his inner thighs, hands on his hips. The Finn knew he surprised people sometimes, either with how little he usually spoke or how much he swore when he did. He thought it was quite amusing.

Denmark tugged at Finland’s cock gently. His breath was hot across it. Sweden placed a hand in the back of his knee, keeping his legs spread, and Finland moaned, his fingers clenching aimlessly on the man’s thigh. Denmark mumbled something that he didn’t understand.

“Sve,” Norway said softly. Finland, Denmark and Sweden all looked up at him. He was now leaning over Iceland, who was still holding Finland’s arm.

“Hm?” Sweden intoned.

“I think we should…” He gestured, not really at anything, but his message was clear enough.

Sweden took a deep breath. “Yes. Finland, Iceland, y’ready?”

Iceland mumbled a yes, and Finland wasn’t sure what he did, but the message must have come across, because Denmark was leaning over him, freckles filling Finland’s vision for a few seconds before he was being kissed. He closed his eyes. Sweden or Denmark’s hand slipped over his cheek and Denmark’s cock was slick and nudging at his ass and Iceland clenched his hand down hard on his forearm and Norway was murmuring something and Finland found it very hard to deal with this much sensation, but he dug his nails into Sweden’s thigh as Denmark slowly pushed his cock into him and managed to contain himself. Denmark mouthed at his neck.

“Fuckin’ shit, Fin, we shoulda done this ages ago,” he mumbled. Finland gasped a laugh.

Fingers pressed down on the sensitive spot on his clavicle. Sweden mumbled something, and then Denmark latched his mouth onto it. Finland arched his back, heat spiking through his stomach. Fuck, was Sweden giving suggestions? That was _amazing_.

“Open your eyes, Fin,” the man in question breathed. Finland pried his eyes open, blinking up at Sweden’s face. There was that dark look again – the blue of his eyes was barely visible – and Finland couldn’t remember ever being so turned on by anything before. He dislodged his arm from Iceland’s vice grip to get both his hands around the Swede’s neck and kiss him frantically. Denmark groaned, bottoming out and digging his fingers into Finland’s hips.

He arched into Denmark’s touch even as Sweden’s hand pressed down on his chest. His glasses were digging into his cheek.

“Sve, _Sve_ ,” Denmark panted, moving his hips shallowly, “do ya have any fuckin’ idea how hot that is? That is— Nor, look, this was the best idea we’ve had in ages.”

“Yes, yes,” Norway replied breathily. “You’re amazin’, we know.”

Sweden finally pulled away from Finland, red-faced and panting. He fixed his glasses self-consciously before turning to the other Nordics. Denmark grinned at him. Finland abruptly felt a bit bad about ignoring him and rocked back on his cock, smirking when the grin turned into an ‘o’ of surprise.

“Can you please _move_ ,” Iceland gasped. “Nore—”

“Yes,” Norway breathed. “God, Iceland.”

Denmark moved his hips back, pulling out of Finland slowly. Sweden moved from his perch next to the Finn to stand between Norway and Denmark at the foot of the bed. Finland tried to wrap his legs around Denmark’s hips as much as possible, giving himself more leverage to rock back against him. The man pulled at his hips, forcing him back down on his cock. Good, that was good. Finland liked it a little rough, and he suspected Denmark was good at giving that. Sure, he was a softie when it came to a lot of things – such as his taste in music, _seriously_ – but he had a very sturdy side.

Finland almost laughed when the obvious innuendo in that thought filtered through to him, but Denmark chose that moment to start thrusting in earnest, so it was lost in heat and arousal and _yesfuckmore_.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open, because he wanted to see the other four – his friends, this rag-tag group of people who’d been through everything at some point, and now through this. Finland clenched his hands in the sheets. This was good, though. Denmark was right when he said it was the best idea they’d had in ages.

Norway looked up at Sweden, and Sweden leaned over the tiniest bit to kiss him as he ran a hand down Iceland’s trembling leg.

Finland curled his toes when Denmark shifted the angle of his thrusts, more heat coiling in his body. He reached out, trying to find Iceland at his side without taking his eyes off Denmark, who looked very concentrated, which was hot, and not what Finland had expected from him.

His hand landed on Iceland’s chest, and the nation curled his own fingers around it tightly, holding on as he rocked against Norway.

Denmark glanced up in surprise when Sweden’s fingers nudged at his chin, and then he moaned when the man kissed him, the rhythm of his thrusts faltering. Finland clenched down on his cock, and he pulled away from Sweden to gasp. Iceland’s nails dug into Finland’s hand painfully, but the sting only turned him on more. Denmark cursed.

“I’m— _Finland_ , fuck.” He shoved Finland back and forth harshly. The Finn groaned and panted, tried to get a hand around his own cock, but Sweden caught his eye and shook his head, so he stopped. He was mildly embarrassed at the blind obedience, but at the same time – Sweden being assertive was amazing, and he’d like much more of it.

Iceland let out a high moan, nearly crushing Finland’s fingers, and Finland looked over just in time to see him come, arching his back and spilling over Norway’s hand, wrapped around his cock. Norway breathed in sharply, clenching his teeth.

“Holy fuck, Iceland,” Denmark panted. Iceland breathed something that Finland didn’t catch, because a large warm hand closed around his own straining erection and started jerking in time with Denmark’s sloppy thrusts. Arousal spiked through him, and when he looked up and saw that Sweden – whose hand it was – wasn’t even looking at him, but kissing Norway again, it nearly became too much. Norway’s left hand was wrapped around Sweden’s neck, obviously pulling to keep him there, while he still thrust into Iceland, who was panting heavily.

“Fucking shit,” Finland said.

“Right on, Fin,” Denmark gasped, and then he shoved himself all the way into Finland, and came, groaning and doubling over, moving his hips in quick, short strokes. Finland arched his back, wrapped his legs tighter around his hips, and then he looked up and caught Norway’s eye.

“Fuck,” he whispered. The eye contact pushed him over the edge, all the heat in his body exploding in his veins into one of the most intense orgasms he had ever experienced. His eyes closed, but he heard Norway’s breathy moan, so at least he wasn’t the only one affected.

His legs wanted to close, but Denmark was a solid weight between them, keeping him spread and open and Sweden kept moving his hand and Iceland clenched his fingers again and Finland gasped for breath because it was almost too much, but it was also amazing and he never wanted it to stop.

Eventually, he fell back limply, trying to get enough air into his lungs to breathe properly. Sweden stroked his stomach briefly.

“Fin?” Denmark asked, and Finland grunted a vague reply. “I’m gonna pull out, okay?”

“Sure.”

He clenched down on nothing.

“Sve, you wanna...” Denmark said. Finland cracked an eye open. Sweden, still with Norway’s arm around his neck, was pushing his glasses up self-consciously as Denmark trailed his fingers along the waist of his boxers. Norway himself had his eyes half closed. Iceland had recovered a little and was looking too, gnawing on his lower lip.

“I,” Sweden said.

Iceland sat up and reached out to him, his fingers very small in contrast with Denmark’s. Sweden swallowed, looking down at their hands. When Norway turned his face into the man’s neck, he gasped and mumbled a _yes._ Denmark grinned, hooked his fingers underneath his underwear and pulled it down with Iceland’s help. Sweden’s eyelids fluttered.

“’Kay, any requests?” Denmark asked, and Sweden shrugged halfheartedly. “Awesome. Lie down.”

The Swede ended up next to Finland, so Finland did the only thing that made sense to him, and rolled over to kiss him, leaning on his heaving chest. Denmark breathed a curse.

“Fin, give the man some air, will ya?” Norway asked, and Finland pulled away reluctantly. He kept a hand on Sweden’s chest, though. He could feel a rapid heartbeat under his palm.

He looked down, instead, where Denmark was kneeling between Sweden’s legs and Norway was perched on his side on the bed, both of them with their hands on Sweden’s legs. Denmark winked at Finland, stuck out his tongue, and licked a stripe up Sweden’s cock, making the man twitch and curl his hands into the sheets. Norway held his leg down, which was just as well because Sweden liked kicking people in the stomach during sex for some reason. Or, well, Finland didn’t think he actually liked it, but it happened.

Iceland nuzzled at Sweden’s neck, and Norway slid his lips around his cock while Denmark mouthed at the base of it. Finland wondered distantly if the three of them had ever had sex together before. He found it hard to imagine they hadn’t. He also found the thought really fucking hot.

“Fin,” Iceland mumbled. Finland snapped out of it and leaned down to press his mouth to Sweden’s toned chest, scraping his teeth over sweaty muscles and grinning when Sweden gasped, a hand clenching on his back. Norway and Denmark kept their mouths on his erection, teasing and trading off sucking and licking and at a certain point they kissed each other messily around it, and Finland would have spontaneously come if he hadn’t already because that was just amazing. Iceland, on his other side, sucked at Sweden’s neck and jaw, tugged at the man’s earlobe with his teeth and ran thin fingers through his hair.

Sweden was panting, the muscles in his stomach clenching and unclenching rhythmically under Finland's touch.

“I’m—” He gasped, and then Iceland kissed him silent while Denmark licked a messy stripe up his cock, and he came undone with a muffled groan into Iceland’s mouth. He pressed hard on Finland’s back, but Finland didn’t care, because Denmark was trying to catch as much come as possible on his outstretched tongue, but he was missing a lot and it was getting on his face and Norway was fucking _licking it up_ like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Denmark grinned lewdly at Finland when Sweden was spent, his heaving breath the only sound in the room.

“Holy fuck,” the Finn breathed. Denmark leaned up, got a hand around his jaw, and kissed him, sharing the taste of Sweden with him. It was an incredibly messy kiss, all saliva and accidentally biting each other’s lips, but it easily made the top five of best kisses Finland had ever had.

Not that he actually had a top five, but it would be in there if he did.

When they broke apart, Norway had crawled up the bed, having squeezed himself in the small space next to Iceland. Finland looked up at Sweden’s face, slack with pleasure, and smiled.

“You okay, Swe?”

“Nnn,” Sweden replied.

It sounded positive. “Okay.”

“That was amazing,” Iceland mumbled. “The whole— Not just that, but, like...”

Norway threw an arm over his waist, resting his forehead between the man’s shoulder blades.

“You’re right, Ice.” Denmark stood up, using Sweden’s thighs as leverage. “Hey, guys, when can we do this again?”

Finland laughed.

“Also,” the Dane continued, “Sve, mind if I use your shower?”

“’S fine,” Sweden replied. “Think we all need one.”

“Seriously, though. We gotta do this again.”

“Yes,” Norway mumbled into Iceland’s skin, “but if you don’t go now, I’m gonna use the shower first.”

“Rude.” He dragged his hands over Sweden’s hips, smiled softly, and went to take a shower.

Later, when all five of them were clean again, they gathered around on Sweden’s – also clean – bed, which was a tight fit even when Denmark decided to sit on top of Norway, and decided they would all like to try again.

“I think there’s always been this sort of...” Iceland wriggled his fingers. “This sort of sexual tension between us. I guess it’s good to, uh. To get it out, I guess.”

“Hm, very effective,” Finland agreed, and he laughed when the other nation blushed.

“We’ll see where we’re at in about a year,” Norway proposed. “If one of us is in a relationship, it’s not gonna work, but if that ain’t the case, then what’s stoppin’ us from doin’ it again? I’d like to.”

“Hm,” Sweden said, agreeing.

“Yeah,” Denmark said. “Sounds like a plan. One more thing, guys. I’m really hungry. Does anyone want to make dinner or do you have delivery in Sweden?”

“You pay,” Sweden told him as he heaved himself up and went to look for his phone.

“Rude.”

They hadn’t ruined their friendship at all. Finland was glad. This _had_ been an amazing idea.

In the future, 1995 was not the year Finland would remember as the year he joined the European Union – he’d remember it as the year the Nordics entered a new phase of their long-standing relationship.

He couldn’t wait until next year.

**Author's Note:**

> (In case it wasn't clear; Norway and Iceland don't know they're actually brothers yet, at this point in time. That will be _addressed_.)


End file.
